


Birdwatching

by tuesday



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mpreg, Other, Oviposition, Pregnancy, Sea Monsters, Tentacle Monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:27:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25025404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/pseuds/tuesday
Summary: In which no actual birdwatching takes place.—"Oh, my," Harold said wonderingly.  "What a magnificent creature."
Relationships: Harold Finch/John Reese, Harold Finch/Tentacle Monster
Comments: 5
Kudos: 56
Collections: Pregnancy Flash 2020





	Birdwatching

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArgylePirateWD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgylePirateWD/gifts).



> For M, this is much, much, much closer to T than E. Thank you very much to Gammarad for the help!

"Oh, my," Harold said wonderingly. "What a magnificent creature."

Computer science was Harold's main love and minor obsession, but he had room enough in his heart for more. Since he was a teenager, he'd heard rumors and gathered the dribs and drabs of information others provided and done his best to sort out flights of fancy from actual fact. Nessie? Not real. Bigfoot? The jury was still out. But this, the one creature he most hoped actually existed?

In all its writhing, undulating glory, the creature pulled itself from the ocean to slither across the sandy shore to where Harold stood. Its lower appendages wrapped around Harold's legs in an extremely forward greeting. The creature was half again Harold's size. Its upper body resembled a human in many ways: a torso, two arms ending with hands with multi-jointed fingers, a head with two eyes, a mouth, and something like hair. In many ways, it differed: teeth like an eel, two sets of eyelids, the lack of a mammal's nipples or navel, and the gills and the webbing between its fingers. Then, of course, there was the lower half, which looked like a squid and some eldritch creature from the depths of mankind's nightmares had come together to create something as terrifying as it was awe-inspiring.

Harold wanted to fuck it.

The creature chirped, a curious, friendly sound, as the tips of its tentacles crept up his thighs to explore under the hem of the shorts Harold wore in deference to the humid tropical heat and his presence on the beach.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Harold said, reaching out a hand to do some exploring of his own. The creature let him touch first the smooth flesh of its shoulders, then the delicate frills by what Harold assumed were its ears. Harold smiled, close-mouthed, trying to express delight without aggression. "I very much am looking forward to getting to know you better."

The creature must have agreed, because its grip became firmer, holding up all of Harold's weight. He left his cane on the shore as the creature enthusiastically dragged him out to sea.

—

Harold hadn't originally intended for his vacation during the lull in numbers to be a weekend-long sex marathon. He'd told Reese that he was going birdwatching. His tan probably put paid to that lie, but Harold merely smiled when Reese asked, "How were the birds?"

"Beautiful," Harold said. "Truly worth the wait."

"I'm sure," Reese said.

They moved on. There was another number. There were always more numbers.

—

"Oh, dear." Harold's suit was a bit tight. The vest refused to button. Harold had been eating more lately but not, he thought, enough to explain his current difficulties. 

Harold ran a hand over the slight bulge in his lower abdomen, focusing on the feeling within. He hadn't noticed initially, not beyond what he'd thought was mild indigestion, but he felt strange—had felt strange for a while now. It was like he'd eaten too much and yet he was still hungry. His guts were oddly heavy, but he didn't feel like he needed to use the restroom. The more he focused on it, the more uncomfortable the distention was.

He experienced the odd certainty that there was something in him, that the creature had left something behind. It should have been unnerving. It should have been horrifying. Harold moved his hand over the distention again and again, feeling a little more confident in his conclusion with every sweep.

A part of Harold had always wanted to have children.

—

Pregnancy was not kind to Harold. He could buy more suits, carefully tailored to hide his growing brood. He was able to engage a very discreet doctor, a former number, to check on the pregnancy (and subsequently discovered that brood was all too apt a description for the number of eggs growing inside Harold right now). He had access to proper nutrition to help keep everything on track.

But no amount of connections or careful research could help with the unrelenting thirst or resultant never-ending bathroom trips. This was ridiculous.

"This is not a good time for a bathroom break," Carter said. She ducked her head around a corner and then ushered the number of the day forward. Harold limped after them.

"I'm well aware," Harold said tightly. "All the same."

"I have to go, too," said the number, a woman even more heavily pregnant than Harold with his baker's dozen of eggs.

Carter cursed under her breath. "I knew I should have switched with Reese."

They stopped for a bathroom break.

—

Fusco was holding a large bottle of Gatorade, lemon-lime flavor. He said, "I'm not asking."

Harold accepted the offering gratefully.

"I don't want to know," Fusco insisted.

Harold knocked back half of the 32 ounce bottle in one go.

"But if you need to talk—"

"I appreciate the thought," Harold said.

—

Reese didn't say anything until the pregnancy had nearly run its course. He was quietly, unobtrusively helpful. 

When Harold's nausea was bad, Reese just so happened to have ginger chews on hand. When Harold ran out of tea, Reese had already started a fresh pot. When Harold bent over his desk and silently bemoaned his back, his belly, and his awful life choices, Reese proved that his hands were skilled at more than murdering a man in fifteen different ways by methodically attacking each knotted muscle in turn until Harold was putty in his hands.

But when the time drew closer, Reese said, "Your next birdwatching trip."

"Yes?" Harold said cautiously. "What about it?"

"How would you like some company?" Reese asked.

"I'm not actually going birdwatching," Harold admitted.

Reese smiled, wry, a little bit crooked. His gaze flitted down to Harold's stomach, long enough that Harold could catch it, short enough to avoid anything like a stare. "I know."

"And you still want to go?" Harold asked.

"I'd hate to miss it."

—

The original creature was glorious, a thing of grace and terror and beauty. Its offspring were smaller, cuter. They were each perhaps the width of Harold's first two fingers and maybe half again as long. They were more wriggling tentacles than torso and they crowded around Harold in the water as he gave birth to their siblings. He and Reese bobbed in the water, repeatedly losing and regaining their footing, and Harold timed his breaths, in and out, with the crest and trough of each wave.

When it was over, the tiny creatures circled around Harold a few more times, letting him admire the iridescent shine of their forms, before perking up all at once and shooting away.

"What do you think," Reese asked, hands holding Harold steady, lips practically to Harold's ear, "about trying to make some of our own?"

"I'm up for the challenge if you are," Harold said.

Harold hadn't intended for that trip to be a weekend-long sex marathon, either, but he was pleased to be proven wrong.


End file.
